


Do You See Me? Soon You Won't.

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Aziraphale Needs A Hug, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Crowley (Good Omens) Needs a Hug, Depression, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Nightmares, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-07 13:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19210369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Aziraphale meets Anthony Crowley on the first day of sophomore year. At first he's wary of the redhead but soon enough the two warm up to each other. Both of the boys carry baggage and both have demons. Together perhaps they can tame them.Heed the tags.





	1. Collision

_ September 8, 2019 _

The start of sophomore year was less daunting than that of freshman year but still quite worrying. Despite getting top marks last year with a GPA of 4.24, Aziraphale worried about the upcoming year. Last year had been easy, he’d been able to breeze through most classes without even having to study (he still did of course) but who knew when the administrators would spring on the sophomores. Homework and assignments had a tendency to all pile up together and as they got older there would probably be even more of it. It was going to be quite exhausting. Aziraphale was nervous. His brother and legal guardian, Gabriel had only half-heartedly tried to soothe his younger siblings nerves. He’d given up years back on calming his brother at times like these.

Gabriel had dropped Aziraphale off about four minutes ago, at the front of Pratchett-Gailman High. He’d nodded a goodbye and reminded Aziraphale to figure out how to get into the book club before speeding away to work. 

Gabriel was a reluctant guardian. Growing up, Aziraphale and his brother hadn’t known each other very well, they were twelve years apart after all. By the time the younger sibling turned seven, the elder was well out of the house. He’d gotten into the University of Alabama and spent five years on an accounting degree. He didn’t even end up with any student loans as their parents had paid for the entirety of Gabriel’s college years. They even sent him money for rent so he didn’t have to get a job and “remove his attention from his studies”. That logic had turned out to be very flawed, Gabriel kept himself more than busy. He got drunk, slept around, did all the things normal college kids would kill to do if they had the money. He even invited some kids to go on a cruise with him over the summer of his second year.

Aziraphale’s mother and father, Armisael and Sidriel Deius died in a rather gruesome car accident when he was just shy of fourteen. After inheriting a good third of their parents’ fortune (a second third went into a trust fund for Aziraphale and the final went to a mix of charities and other family members), Gabriel felt it only right to take in his little brother. The first weeks were beyond awkward. Both siblings were dealing with immense grief and the distance between the two seemed larger than ever. They tended to avoid one another and would usually only see their fellow family member once or twice a day. Gabriel obviously wasn’t ready to take in a little brother he barely knew but he tried his hardest. He got a grip on the whole situation two months after their parents’ death. He enrolled Aziraphale in therapy, tried to help him with homework and tried to get involved with his brother’s school and extracurricular life. Blood looked out for one another and while Gabriel and Aziraphale weren’t the best of friends or brothers (and they probably never would be), they’d managed to hold together a functioning relationship.

Gabriel had dropped his brother off almost forty-five minutes before school began. Aziraphale had many things to do after all, he had to memorize where all of his classes were, see if he could find anything out about joining a book club, find Newt and Anathema (the closest people he had to friends) and hopefully grab a book or ten from the library. He really hoped that the librarian, Tracy, had changed her mind about retiring. She was such a pleasant and kind lady, and he knew the janitor - Shadwell, would be quite upset if she left.

Peering down at his schedule, six periods, he sighed when he realized that they were all incredibly far apart. Just his luck. He began his long trek to all classes, starting with finding his English classroom. He was looking forward to that this year, of all his subjects, the one which he was the best at was English. That’d always been the case. It probably had to do with all the reading he did. One of the first things Gabriel had picked up on in his brother as they rediscovered each other was his “worrying” tendency to be with a book at all times. Was it such a bad thing that he was training his mind? He wanted to get into a good school after all, good colleges or universities led to appreciated degrees which led to esteemed references which led to impressive jobs which led to even more good references as well as a well-paying paycheck. Maybe even enough to open a bookshop up on the side. When he was young that was always what he’d wanted to do, sell books. Of course his parents had explained to him why that wasn’t a good idea. He now set his hopes for the future elsewhere, still though, the idea of a bookshop had always rested quite firmly in his mind.

This trail of thought persisted as he took in his other classes, ending at the science room. His little shop was perfectly planned out in his head, old wooden bookshelves and novels which smelled like knowledge and fresh parchment - still though, with a distinct musty scent that most hated but which Aziraphale loved. Rows and rows of bookshelves there would be, so many that one could get lost in the maze of knowledge. Perhaps he’d make the shelves shorter for the sake of those who were bad with directions. That would clash with his image of the little shop though. He’d always pictured tall shelves which needed ladders to get to all of the volumes stacked three layers thick. 

Aziraphale was startled from him musings when he felt and vaguely registered colliding with something and felt himself falling over. Sighing at the mess of papers and such which had fallen from his satchel, his first guess was that he’d run into a wall - again. However, as he looked to see what he’d walked into, he was surprised to see it was another human. He looked around Aziraphale’s age and was scowling as he placed dark shades back over his eyes. They’d presumably fallen off in the collision. The teenager had red hair and a disgruntled expression, he was dressed in all black, quite the contrast to Aziraphale’s beige and white clothing. At the sight of the stranger’s scowl, the teenager quickly realized his improper manners. 

“Oh, good heavens! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, really I apologize-”

The redhead cut him off, already getting to his feet,”That’s fine. I don’t care. Just watch where you’re going next time. What are you, new?”

“Ah, no. I’m not. I’ve lived here all my life, not in the same home - I’ve moved quite a few times, but my family’s always remained in this town odd as it is. Well, I suppose we did move for a period, to California, which lasted less than six months though-”

The stranger cut him off again, crisp and to the point like before,”You’re rambling. I also didn’t ask for your life’s story.”

“Sorry.”

Gathering up all of his papers off the floor, Aziraphale watched as the stranger sauntered off without another word. 

 

* * *

  
  


_ September 10, 2019 _

It was the third day of school and Aziraphale felt his body getting back into the schedule that was school. Up at six, eat, change, brush teeth and hair, go to school etc., it was a bit monotonous but he was hardly going to complain. He was getting an education after all. 

He was in second period, history when the teacher - Mrs. Young announced they’d be partnering up for the first big project of the year. Many began to grumble about how it was only the third day of school but Aziraphale liked that Mrs. Young wasn’t wasting time. He did however worry about what partnership he’d be put in. He didn’t have any friends really (unless you counted Newton and Anathema, but they were juniors) so he usually ended up with somebody who didn’t want to contribute so he ended up doing both parts of the project. 

Sure enough, the class began to partner up before the teacher even said so. Aziraphale condemned himself to waiting until everyone had found a friend before trying to sort through the leftovers. There seemed to be only one today. Sighing, he walked towards the back of one of his classmates. He tapped the other teenager’s shoulder and the classmate flinched back violently. This in turn, made Azrophale flinch and they were left in a rather awkward situation. The stranger contained his flinch rather quickly and turned his head, a scowl on his face. Aziraphale recognized the red haired teen immediately. It was the same fellow he’d run into in the hall two days ago. 

“I’m terribly sorry, but well… you’re the only other person without a partner.” Aziraphale cringed at how rude that sounded.

The other teen’s mouth flattened into a thin line and his eyebrows arched slightly downward. He couldn’t see the teen’s eyes due to his dark glasses but if he could, Aziraphale guessed they would show displeasure. 

“Well then… what's your name?” Before he could get a response though, the teacher started talking and Aziraphale snapped his attention back to the front and sat in the empty spot next to his workmate. It was rather hard to focus on all that the teacher was saying though, as the redhead was staring at him, or well, looking in his general direction. It was rather unsettling and the white-haired boy (that was a story for another day) couldn’t help but squirm in his seat. Judging by the grin that crossed his neighbor’s face, red-hair enjoyed the effect.

 

The bell rang fourteen uncomfortable minutes later and Aziraphale was anxious to get away from his unsettling classmate. He doubted the project would be much fun and hoped for once that he would be given the brunt of the work. Something the red-haired boy seemed to give off was just… off.. wrong. Unfortunately, the white-haired teen didn’t get away like he’d hoped. As he quickly stood, satchel already slung over his shoulder, he was almost out of reach when he felt an icy grip take hold of his arm. Surprised, his eyes widened and he let out a little squeak. Turning anxiously, he saw the shade wearing teen on the other end of the grasp. He seemed to be fighting another grin, and was failing. 

“Crowley.” the other boy said, getting to his feet, still not releasing his arm,”My name is Anthony Crowley. We should exchange numbers, for the project.”

Something in Aziraphale was telling him rather unpleasantly - it was like a shouting in the ear, not to give his number to the teen. He uneasily ignored the feeling though. He took out his bulky five-years-old-and-barely-functioning phone and opened up chat. 

Anthony had also taken out his phone and was casually leaning against the desks. Somehow, the white-haired boy wasn’t surprised at the red-heads sleek, thin and spotless looking android. The other teen was looking at Aziraphale expectantly, he stared blankly back. 

“Your number?” Anthony finally asked.

“Oh. Right.” he said nervously, rattling off the number he was thankful Anathema convinced him to memorize.

His fellow teenager had the contact finished in no time and then rattled off his own number, beginning to look rather bored. Nervously, Aziraphale looked at the clock - he still had two minutes to get to PE. He was rather bad with electronics and technology in general so it took him a while to get the number in. Finally done, he filled the contact in as ‘Anthony Crowley’ and pocketed the ancient phone.

“What’s with the fancy getup and hair? Going to the circus after school?” Anthony said conversationally, walking to the door. Aziraphale didn’t even notice his legs were following until they exited the room together.

“Er, no.” he said, nervously scratching the back of his neck,”I just like to dress properly. I’m not entirely sure about my hair. It went white early, when I was fourteen - it used to be brown. I’m a bit like Steve Martin.”

“I’m surprised you know who that is.” Anthony said looking disinterested,”What class are you going to, angel?”

Aziraphale stopped on the spot out of shock, staring at the redhead before sputtering out,” _ Angel? _ ”

“Well with all the white and beige and skin as pale as skim-milk you may as well be.” Anthony said with a shrug, still walking,”You never answered my question by the way.”

“Gym.” Aziraphale said, rushing to keep up with his taller classmate,”And my name is Aziraphale.”

This time Anthony stopped,”You’re joking.” he said with a look of utter disbelief on his face,” _ Aziraphale? _ What kind of name is that? That's… it’s borderline child abuse!”

Aziraphale had a hard time keeping a grin from his face, his family did seem to have a penchant for odd names - Gabriel was an exception,”My family names us after angels. My brother was lucky, he got a normal name, Gabriel.”

Anthony made a face,”Who names their kid after an angel? That’s tacky and kind of messed up. Are you one of those kids who was raised by nuns till they were like 13?”

“Er, no. We go to church on Sundays, me and my brother but apart from that we aren’t really crazy about religion.”

“Well that’s disappointing.” Anthony said with a sigh,”Anyways, this is my math class so… bye.”

Aziraphale nodded and stepped away, it was only after the red-head stepped into his classroom that he realized he was on the wrong side of campus. He groaned when the bell rang. 

 

* * *

 

 

_ September 10, 2019 (Later) _

“I think I know who you’re talking about.” Anathema said over lunch,”He’s new this year, got detention on the first day for swearing at Satan.”

“Do you really have to call Mr. Beelzebub that?” Aziraphale said with a sigh. 

“Dude, he literally has the last name of the prince of hell - he’s begging for it.” Newton said, licking ketchup off his fingers. 

“Anyways.” Anathema said, cutting her boyfriend off,”He’s bad news. I suggest you avoid him after the project. Mary says he’s here because he was expelled from his last one - for dealing drugs.”

“I don’t think he’s that type of person.” Aziraphale said defensively.

“Az, no offense.” Newton said looking oddly serious,”but you aren’t exactly a great judge of character. You always think the best of people. Remember what happened with War?”

“I don’t know why you need to call Kris that.” Aziraphale said with some annoyance in his tone,”And that was a one time thing.”

“One, we call her war because she basically waged one between us and the rest of the school. Two, don’t defend her. Three, that was not a one time thing.” Newt said,”Lucius, Prissa, christ, Don. Don’t get me started on Don.. anyways do I need to go on?”

The white haired boy sighed,”No, I suppose not.”

 

* * *

 

 

_ September 11, 2019 _

 

**Anthony Crowley started a conversation**

 

**Sent: 3:17AM**

**Anthony Crowley: so when do you want to start this whole project thing? I forgot what it’s about but I know it’s something boring and involves me wasting my time.**

**Read: 3:19AM**

 

**Sent: 3:20AM**

**Aziraphale: Anthony, what on Earth are you doing up this late? We can talk about this tomorrow.**

**Read: 3:20AM**

 

**Sent: 3:21AM**

**Anthony Crowley: it is tomorrow**

**Read: 3:24AM**

 

**Sent: 3:26AM**

**Aziraphale: You know what I mean.**

**Read: 3:26AM**

 

**Sent: 3:27AM**

**Anthony Crowley: no I don’t also aren’t u supposed to be the sort of person whose always on top of school work?** **  
** **Read: 3:30AM**

 

**Sent: 3:35AM**

**Aziraphale: I do keep up on school work, just not at ungodly hours in the morning. I’d appreciate it if you stop attempting to talk to me. Thank you.**

**Read: 3:35AM**

 

**Sent: 3:42AM**

**Anthony Crowley: u know ur a slow typer**

**Read: 3:44AM**

 

**Sent: 3:45AM**

**Aziraphale: Go to sleep, Anthony.** **  
** ****

**Read: 3:45AM**

 

**Sent: 3:46AM** **  
** **Anthony Crowley: fine**

**Read: 3:47AM**

 

**Sent: 4:02AM** **  
** **Anthony Crowley: u know what, fuck this. I’m keeping u up all night.**

**Read: 4:14AM**

 

**Sent: 4:16AM**

**Aziraphale: I am silencing my phone. If you text me again I will delete your number. If you continue after that I will block you.**

**Read: 4:16AM**  
  


 

* * *

 

 

_ September 11, 2019 _

It was early in the morning and Aziraphale was at his locker, still having trouble wiping the sleep from his eyes. Anthony had been exhausting last night. After his text messages at ungodly times in the morning, it was beyond difficult to fall back asleep. He had ended up drifting off about ten till five and woke up less than an hour later to Gabriel standing over him with that disapproving look of his. He always seemed to know when Aziraphale had done something wrong.

He felt a hand clasp onto his sweater-wearing shoulder and jumped into the air. Anthony grinned at him as he turned,”Looks like I did my job.”

Aziraphale scowled at the red head,”If I’m an angel then you’re a demon.”

“Oooh feisty much?” Anthony said, smirk still on his face. He was now casually leaning against the lockers. His hair looked uncombed, but in a good way, the type that made girls swoon. His ever present shaded-glasses still hid his eyes. He had a dark turtleneck on with a fancy yet… devilish sort of black jacket, the collar could go up to his neck but for now he let it stay down. His pants were black as well, as were his shoes. It seemed the only speck of color on Anthony was his hair. 

“When do you want to work on the project?” Aziraphale asked.

“As soon as possible.” Anthony said,”I want it done. Normally I don’t even work on these things but I’m bored and you’re entertainment enough.”

“You don’t really know me, how do you know that I’m entertaining?” the white-haired sophomore asked.

“That’s the fun part.” Anthony said as if it were obvious,”New people are interesting. Once I know you for about a week I’ll ditch you and find somebody else to entertain myself with.”

Feeling a bit ruffled, all Aziraphale could do was nod at his fellow sophomores words.

“See you in second period.” the redhead said before swaggering away, leaving Aziraphale with the beginnings of a headache.

_ September 11, 2019 (Later) _

First period was a drag. Normally English was the most interesting of Aziraphale’s classes but he doubted he was in for a good year. The teacher, Ms. Morrisey couldn’t be older than 26 and was incredibly frazzled at all times, apparently she had three kids and two dogs to support and raise well. He suspected she was deep into debt and stress by now. She fell asleep during class today in the middle of a lecture on the importance of commas. Despite his annoyance at all of that, Aziraphale took pity on his teacher. He moved her into a more comfortable position so she wouldn’t have an ache in her neck when she woke up, made sure to move her coffee far enough away that she wouldn’t knock it over in the haze of just waking up and also made sure the class was quiet so she could sleep. 

He finished his book by the time the bell rang and was relieved to get up. Ms. Morrisey wasn’t phased by the bell, she didn’t even shift in her sleep. Azirophale was still having a difficult time staying up due to Anthony’s late night texts. He had to fight to keep awake as he walked into the history classroom and barely registered somebody guiding him to a seat. When he blinked back to awareness he realized Mrs. Young was talking and Anthony Crowley was sitting beside him, fiddling with a pair of shades identical to the pair he had on. 

Anthony glanced over at Aziraphale and registered that he’d broken from his stupor. He offered his classmate a quick smirk before returning to the shades. Shaking himself again, Azirophale took out a sheet of paper and a pencil and began to scribble down notes. The last twenty minutes of class was time to work on their projects - everything they didn’t finish would have to be done outside of school. Honestly it was surprising they were being given any time at all.

Anthony already looked bored and was trying to turn a screw into his sunglasses with a pencil. 

“Why do you wear those anyway?” Aziraphale found himself asking. 

Anthony shrugged, not turning his gaze from the second pair in front of them,”I like them.”

The white-haired teen waited for further elaboration but none was given. Sighing, he changed the topic,”Well then, first things first - let’s look over the rubric for the project.”

Aziraphale moved the rubric to the center of their two desks and looked pointedly at Anthony. The other teenager didn’t look away from his shades, “I thought we agreed I wasn’t doing all the work.”

“You aren’t.” Anthony said,”But I’m not going to look at a fucking rubric for twenty minutes”

“That’s not all we’re doing.” said the blue-eyed teen said defensively,”Besides, this will help us figure out how we’d like to split the workload. Anyhow, how do you expect to know what to do if you don’t read the rubric?”

Anthony seemed to be ignoring him. Aziraphale sighed,”Alright then, I suppose I’ll just decide what I’ll do and then-”

“Damnit!” the redhead suddenly exclaimed from beside him, he was glaring at a crack in his shades. 

“How on Earth did you manage that?” Aziraphale asked curiously.

“That was my last good pair too…” Anthony muttered, not hearing or not caring about his partner’s words.

“What about the ones you’re wearing?” The white-clothed teen asked,”What’s wrong with them?”

“They don’t count if you’re wearing them.” said the other boy as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right…”

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) their conversation was halted by the ringing of the bell. Anthony sighed and looked down at his glasses before getting to his feet, Azirophale was already standing and waiting by the door. As the redhead was climbing to his feet though, the other teen caught something in his expression which he was sure he wasn’t supposed to see. A flicker of pain flashed across Anthony’s face but it was quickly pushed away by a steely composure which then eased back into his normal carefree expression. 

“So, Angel, when do you want to work on this project?” the boy asked as he began to walk out the threshold. Aziraphale only began to catch up when he realized he was staring at Anthony’s retreating back. He hurried to catch up. What he’d seen was probably nothing, perhaps his classmate’s foot had fallen asleep.

“Why is it that only after we leave the classroom is when you express interest in our project?” Aziraphale couldn’t help but ask.

Anthony turned his torso so his face was visible to his friend, both eyebrows were raised almost into his hair,”Wow, did you just make a comeback? Geez, you’re breaking out of your shell.”

The white haired boy rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

_ September 12, 2019 _

Aziraphale had to admit he was looking forward to history. More than normal. He’d had the best idea for Anthony and his’ project during English and couldn’t wait to share it. It involved only a bit of extra research but he was sure the final product and probable extra points would more than make up for it. He’d even thought of a way to make the research interesting for somebody like Anthony. Something told him looking through books wasn’t going to fly with the redhead. Aziraphale’s idea, which involved watching a movie, was probably more interesting to his classmate.

However, walking into history class, Anthony was noticeably absent. Frowning, the beige-clothed teenager sat in his usual spot next to a currently vacant seat. His classmate… his  _ friend _ was probably just going to be late. It wasn’t uncommon for Anthony to be late, in the past week he’d strutted in late 2/4 times. Today would probably make it 3/5. The bell rang and Mrs. Young started talking, still no Anthony. Five minutes, no. Ten, no. Twelve, no. Fifteen, no. Twenty, no. Thirty - nothing.

The bell rang about half an hour later and Aziraphale exited the classroom, something indescribable but uneasy settled in his gut, leaving him feeling disquieted. During lunch he abandoned Anathema and Newton to search for his friend. He had no idea where the redhead usually sat and hadn’t ever seen him in the cafeteria so had to scan the entire area. Nothing. The teen didn’t know what was making him feel so unsettled, the logical explanation was Anthony being ill. He was fine yesterday though so what could it be? Perhaps he was skipping school? Illogically, Azirophale felt as though his classmate would tell him if that were the case, even though they’d known one another for all of one week. 

Crowley didn’t show for the rest of the day.

**Sent: 3:02PM**

**Aziraphale: Anthony, why weren’t you at school today?**

**Unread**

 

**Sent: 4:12PM** **  
** **Aziraphale: Look I don’t mean to pester, but seeing as my previous message is unread, I feel inclined to text again.**

**Unread**

 

**Sent: 6:32PM**

**Aziraphale: Are you alright?**

**Unread**


	2. Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony and Aziraphale get into a few fights, they figure it out eventually.

_September 15, 2019 - Monday_

Aziraphale didn’t hear back from Anthony all weekend. It was something that loomed over his head the entire weekend. In fact, it was blaringly obvious enough that even Gabriel noticed. He asked over Italian on Saturday if something was troubling him. The younger Deius brother had said he was simply feeling a bit ill. Gabriel had of course launched into a full investigation, feeling his forehead, asking when it started, if he’d been out in the rain lately etc. It was still odd for Azirophale to see his older brother play the role of protector. To see his brother worry over him was like watching a cheetah stand on its hind legs and dance. Even though he didn’t have a temperature, Gabriel almost kept him from going to school. It was only after several insistences that he was fine that his brother warily agreed to drive him to Pratchett-Gailman High. Aziraphale supposed that after their parents’ death his brother had grown more protective.

The first thing he scanned the halls for was a mop of red hair. Luckily, the red, messy style of Anthony’s hair wasn’t hard to spot and Azirophale saw him leaning against his locker casually. The first thing Aziraphale noticed as he walked speedily towards his friend was that Anthony was wearing a turtleneck. A turtleneck. Anthony. _Turtleneck._

“Where in heaven’s name have you been?” was what Aziraphale would’ve liked to have asked as he spun to face his classmate. However the words died in his throat at the sight of the wary teen. His skin was pale, and he had a split lip. A bit of a bruise showed up near Anthony’s eye but it was mostly covered by his shades.

Aziraphale cleared his throat several times in shock but also to attract Anthony’s gaze. He succeeded in capturing it and a two worded question was muttered softly and with incredible tenderness,”What happened?”

At the look on his classmate’s face he began to feel a bit uncomfortable, he’d known Anthony for less than a week. It felt as though he were overstepping. Obviously the other teen felt the same way.

“None of your business.” the redhead hissed, stepping away from the row of lockers to look in Aziraphale’s general direction. He imagined Anthony was glaring at him underneath his shades. He haphazardly wondered what color the teenager’s eyes were. Aziraphale’s fellow sophomore started walking away, seeming to want out of the situation. The white haired boy started to follow him but he stopped himself, reminded by his mind that it wasn’t his place. He’d only known Anthony a week.

Chewing his lip, the teen watched as his classmate disappeared into the crowd of high schoolers.

Anthony didn’t talk or sit next to him in history.

 

* * *

 

 

_September 15, 2019 (Later) - Monday_

 

**Sent: 7:54PM**

**Aziraphale: Anthony, I’m sorry if I upset you. I realize now that I was overstepping. Anyhow, I hope you forgive me but understand if you don’t. I’m used to that. I’d appreciate knowing which option you choose though. I want to know if I should get started on the project.**

**Read: 7:55PM**

 

**Sent: 8:25PM**

**Aziraphale: Sorry I’m texting again. I’d just like to know about the project. Am I pestering? Sorry.**

**Read: 8:25PM**

 

**Sent: 8:41PM**

**Anthony: i already told u that u aren’t doing the project on ur own**

**Read: 8:44PM**

 

**Sent: 8:46PM**

**Aziraphale: Oh, alright then. Do you prefer we do our project on the Confederate or Union forces?**

**Read: 8:46PM**

 

**Sent: 8:47PM**

**Anthony: the confederates, union forces r boring. also u say sorry 2 much**

**Read: 8:48PM**

 

**Sent: 8:50PM**

**Aziraphale: First of all, the Union is just as interesting as the Confederacy. And second, sorry.**

**Read: 8:50PM**

 

**Sent: 8:51PM**

**Aziraphale: Oh, sorry did it again.**

**Read: 8:51PM**

 

**Sent: 8:52PM**

**Aziraphale: I’m going to stop typing now.**

**Read: 8:52PM**

 

**Sent: 8:52PM**

**Anthony: good idea. anyways the bad guys r always the interesting ones, haven’t u learned anything from marvel? one word, Loki**

**Read: 8:52PM**

 

**Sent: 9:03PM**

**Aziraphale: My parents didn’t let me watch anything in the Marvel Cinematic Universe or read any comic books. I do agree that the god of mischief is an interesting character. Though I didn’t take you for the sort who read up on Norse mythology, not in a bad way. Sorry, I don’t mean to insult your intelligence, well I don’t think I did so unintentionally either but you might take it the wrong way. I’m rambling again. I’ll stop.**

**Read: 9:03PM**

 

 **Sent: 9:04PM** **  
** **Anthony: u had a sad childhood, and can you say anything without sounding like a nerd? also i don't read norse mythology angel, its a reference 2 marvel**

**Read: 9:05PM**

 

**Sent: 9:08PM**

**Aziraphale: Sorry.**

**Read: 9:09PM**

 

**Sent: 9:10PM**

**Aziraphale: I keep doing that now. I think pointing it out made it worse. Anyways, we should set up a schedule for the project. Can you come over on Saturday?**

**Unread**

 

**Sent: 9:24PM**

**Aziraphale: Anthony it bothers me when you just drop out of our conversations like this. You gave me a fright on Friday. Let me know when you can about Saturday, I can’t do anything earlier than one though, I have piano lessons.**

**Unread**

* * *

  
  


_September 16, 2019 - Tuesday_

During second period, Anthony sat next to Aziraphale like nothing had happened the previous day.

“ _Piano lessons?_ ” the redhead asked as he plopped into a chair beside his classmate, in his hand was a bag of Doritos. Despite school rules, he was snacking casually in plain view of the teacher. Mrs. Young gave Anthony a look but didn’t do anything beyond it. The first day Crowley had been late to class and she tried to give him a detention had given her all she needed to know about the teen.

“You are a walking stereotype, Angel.” the redhead said, licking the cheese off his fingers,”Also it is my new mission in life to have you watch a Marvel movie, probably ‘Iron Man’. I don’t give a fuck what your parents say,”

Something twinged inside of Aziraphale at the mention of his parents, a short, sudden and violent attack of grief hit him and it was hard to keep his watering eyes hidden from Crowley, he ducked his head. He’d also felt a twinge of something when Anthony had said ‘piano lessons’ but that wasn’t grief. It was guilt. Guilt from lying. His father always said lying was a sin and he felt uncomfortable doing it. He just didn’t want to tell Anthony the truth. They weren’t anywhere near close enough to confide in each other things like that. In reality, Aziraphale _was_ busy on Saturday, just not with piano lessons. Therapy sessions. Gabriel put him in them after their parents’ death. It helped he supposed. His brother had gone overboard though, making him take pills for depression when he was perfectly fine. He hated the pills. They made everything numb, like his emotions were calmed and muted.

“What if I don’t want to watch the movies?” Aziraphale asked, probably more aggressively than he needed to.

“Except you do.” Anthony said, putting his feet on the desk, pushing Mrs. Young’s boundaries it seemed,”Everybody loves a good Marvel movie.”

“I don’t.” Aziraphale mumbled. He really didn’t. It felt like it would be a betrayal of his parents, to do something they’d specifically told him not to. Especially since they were… gone. He never understood the thrill people got when breaking the rules. Said rules were there for a reason and breaking them not only was wrong and probably dangerous but also disrespectful of those who had set the rule. It would hurt the setters of the rules that they weren’t being listened to. It would hurt that nobody seemed to notice or care how they felt about it.

Anthony peered over at him, momentarily stopping his snacking,”Fine.” the redhead finally said,”We can do something else.”

“Why don’t we just work on the project?” Aziraphale snapped.

His workmate flinched at the sudden rise of volume in his tone, and then swallowed awkwardly.

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale said sincerely,”I must not have gotten enough sleep last night. I’ve been in a ghastly mood all day. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“Ok.” Anthony said, he’d put his feet back on the floor and finished his chips. He threw the empty bag in the general direction of the garbage but it being lightweight and all, it simply fluttered onto the ground about a foot away. Mrs. Young looked agitated but still said nothing. Right now they should be reading a few pages in their textbooks but not much of the class was. Of course Aziraphale had, he’d just finished before anyone else. Anthony had swaggered into class late and didn’t bother to see what was going on, just sat down along with his chips. Aziraphale assumed that he must be smart to be able to have made it this far with all his slacking and not paying attention. He must pick up on things fast.

“I should be able to come over Saturday.” Anthony said a moment or so later,”Text me your address.”

Aziraphale nodded. Anthony looked at him expectantly. The white haired boy looked back with a frown before he realized what his workmate was trying to communicate.”You mean now?”

“Yes.”

“I can hardly do that.” Aziraphale said, feeling a bit flabbergasted by the mention of it,”We’re in class.”

“Have you seen Young discipline anybody yet?” Anthony asked, nodding towards the teacher,”You wouldn’t be the only one either, look at dumb and dumber in the corner.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and turned to the corner, two boys he vaguely remembered the names of were on their phones. Not only that but one of them, Hastur he believed, was carving something into his desk with a _knife_. His crony, Listur, was throwing wads of paper at the girl in front of him.

The white haired boy turned back to a smug look on Anthony’s face, he seemed to think that he’d already won.

”Still.” Aziraphale said, a bit frazzled,”Rules are rules and they are there for a reason.”

“Oh for Satan’s sake!” his classmate groaned, making a dramatic show of leaning back in his chair until it was on the brink of tipping.

Aziraphale felt a bit uncomfortable at his friend’s phrasing,”Why Satan?”

“Oh I don’t know.” Anthony said,”Why does anybody do anything?”

The white haired boy simply sighed, it didn’t seem he was going to get a straightforward answer.

“Alright class.” Mrs. Young said, interrupting them,”It seems like most of us are done.” her gaze traveled to Hastur and Listur.

“Anyways, we’re going to be studying the Battle of Helena today.” the teacher said, pressing a button to start the presentation.

 

* * *

  


_September 20, 2019 - Saturday_

Aziraphale frowned at the clock, 1:19, eleven minutes until Anthony would be showing up. He’d told Gabriel about the redhead coming over last minute. It wasn’t an oversight but a tactic so it would be too late for him to cancel the study session. His brother had given him a lecture about getting such things said on time and how Aziraphale was being irresponsible and how disappointed he was. The teenager actually had felt guilty at that, Gabriel had done so much for him after all, it just felt wrong to do this sort of sneaky thing behind his back.

Sighing, Aziraphale rubbed his temples. He’d gotten back from his therapy session about ten minutes ago and was still feeling the effects. He knew it was good for him but after the sessions he always felt incredibly drained and just… tired. He frowned when his phone dinged, nobody really texted him except Anthony and he wouldn’t need to text unless he needed to cancel. Or wanted to cancel. Aziraphale bit his lip, debating whether to pick up the device. Anthony said just a week or so ago that he’d be interested in the white-haired boy for just a few days before finding somebody else to get to know. Perhaps that was now, perhaps he’d lost interest.

The sophomore cut himself off then, it was not good to assume things. Besides, Anthony had been joking, at least that’s what Aziraphale thought. Snapping out of his thoughts once and for all, he peered at his text messages.

 

 **Sent: 1:24PM** **  
** **Anthony: i’d have liked having a heads up that u live in an apartment complex. Wat floor and number r u?**

**Read: 1:26PM**

 

Aziraphale sighed in relief. Of course, how stupid of him to not give Anthony the floor number.

 

**Sent: 1:27PM**

**Aziraphale: So sorry, Anthony. We live on the fourth floor.**

**Read: 1:27PM**

 

**Sent: 1:28PM**

**Anthony: and what number?**

**Read: 1:28PM**

 

**Sent: 1:29PM**

**Aziraphale: We’re the only ones who live on this floor. It’s not an apartment complex, it’s a condo.**

**Read: 1:29**

 

**Sent: 1:29PM**

**Anthony: didn’t realize u were rich. Wat do ur parents do?**

**Read: 1:30PM**

 

**Sent: 1:34PM**

**Aziraphale: My brother is the one who makes the money, he works as an accountant, he also inherited money from my parents I suppose. They’re dead.**

**Read: 1:34PM**

 

Aziraphale bit his lip at the last text. He felt uncomfortable sharing that. Still, the truth would’ve come out somehow and it was best to not let his classmate go on assuming that his parents were, well… living. He stared down at his screen, blinking rapidly to stop his eyes from watering. He waited anxiously for Anthony’s reply.

The doorbell rang and he jumped, it seemed his friend had arrived before his text. Gabriel was at work so he was to answer the door. He walked speedily from his room and to the front door, opening it he was surprised by what he saw. A familiar redhead with familiar dark clothing and shades. Unfamiliar however, was the apologetic look on his face.

As Aziraphale opened the door, Anthony began to speak,”Angel I’m sor-”

“It’s fine.” the white-haired teen said, cutting his friend off,”You didn’t know. Honestly, the less you mention it the more happy I’ll be.”

Anthony closed his mouth.

“Right.” Aziraphale said,”Um… come in I suppose.”

His workmate stepped under the threshold,”Nice place.”

“Uh, no shoes.” Aziraphale said, he’d forgotten about one of Gabriel’s many rules, no shoes in the house,”Sorry.”

Anthony simply shrugged and removed his matte black footgear.

“My room’s this way.” Aziraphale said, beginning to walk towards the hallway. Anthony seemed to have his mind set on something else though.

“What food do you have?” he asked, strolling in the direction of the kitchen.

“How do you know where the kitchen is?” the white-haired teen asked, hurrying to catch up.

“I know everything.” the redhead said simply before opening the fridge. He made a disgusted face,” _Vodka?_ Who the hell drinks vodka? Christ, is that a sushi plate? That’s disgusting!”

“Sushi’s good.” Aziraphale said defensively,”And vodka is not that uncommon.”

“Wait.” his friend turned,”Are you telling me that _you_ \- good boy who's never broken a rule in his life, drink _vodka?_ ”

“Of course not.” the shorter boy said,”It’s illegal for minors to drink.” the redhead rolled his eyes.

“And I’ve broken rules before, I just don’t make a habit of it.”

“Sure. Do you have anything actually edible in here? Seriously, this is kind of depressing. Again, are you sure you weren’t raised by nuns? This seems like the apartment of somebody who was raised and traumatized by nuns.”

Aziraphale sighed.

Eventually, Anthony gave up on his search for food and turned to his workmate,”I suppose we should get started on that thing now.”

“Project.”

“Whatever.”

Aziraphale led Anthony to his room (“Where is your bed? All I see are books… Jesus, how much do you read?”) and the two plopped down and set to work.

“Alright then.” the shorter boy said,”So what do we want to start by doing?”

“You’re the smart one.” Anthony said with a shrug.

Aziraphale huffed slightly but complied,”I’ve looked over the rubric and since we’re doing work on the Confederates, we’ll be studying and diagraming some of the largest and most important conflicts that we didn’t go over in class. That includes raids, sections about esteemed generals and milestones in battle strategy. We’ll also be looking at the effects of the war on citizens that were not just of the confederacy but also those in the union that were affected.”

“And?” Anthony asked, looking bored.

“Well I think we should start by looking over the grand scheme of the war and look at all of the conflicts, then we’ll pick out the ones we think were most effective.”

At this the redhead pulled out a laptop from a black bag Aziraphale hadn’t previously noticed. He quickly typed something onto the keyboard with lightning fast speed before clicking something,”Wikipedia already has a bunch of fights listed and better yet, they’re ranked in importance.”

“Oh, lovely.” Azirophale said with a smile,”It’s a trustworthy site, yes?”

“Yeah. Yeah, totally.” Anthony said dismissively.

It took about thirty minutes until the redhead started complaining, honestly longer than either of them thought,”This is going to take forever.” he whined.

“Well, it is due at the end of the semester.” Aziraphale said knowledgeably.

Anthony grumbled something under his breath. Five more minutes passed and the redhead grew increasingly more unbearable. At one point he started singing a rather disturbing lullaby that completely distracted Aziraphale.

“Gore and darkness and blood?” he eventually cried in outrage,”Good lord Anthony, must you sing such… dark things?”

“Yes.” the taller boy said without hesitation, now on his back he was idly throwing a pencil up and into the air, Aziraphale was only put at ease because of the shades that were protecting his friends’ eyes.

Eventually Aziraphale couldn’t take it much longer,”Let’s take a break.”

“Can we order pizza?” Anthony asked, still throwing the pencil.

“Would you stop that?” the white-haired boy asked exasperatedly, trying to pluck the pencil from his classmate’s grasp,”And no.”

“Why not?”

“Well first of all, I don’t have any money.” Aziraphale began, Anthony interrupted him before the second point though.  
“What do you mean you don’t have any money? Don’t you have a job, an allowance, Christmas money?” the redhead asked.

“I don’t need a job as I have plenty of money to get me through college and quite a few years after that-”

“Then use it.”

“It’s not that simple, it’s in a bank account I can’t touch until I’m of age.”

“Well that’s pointless isn’t it?” Anthony mumbled with an irritated expression.

“Maybe when Gabriel gets home I can ask him.” Aziraphale said, he just wanted the redhead off his back.

“When is he home?”

“Thirty minutes.”

Anthony groaned.

By the time Gabriel arrived home, Aziraphale was more frazzled then he’d been in months, even more than he had been at the beginning of the school year. Anthony had broken a dozen house rules, left a mess everywhere he went and ruined Aziraphale’s favorite shirt. His classmate was definitely a handful.

“Gabriel.” the white-haired teen greeted his brother as soon as he walked through the door.

The twenty-some year old startled at the sudden appearance of his brother,”Good grief, Aziraphale.”

“So sorry.” the sophomore said, feeling genuinely apologetic,”Anthony and I were wondering if you could order some food?”

Gabriel looked surprised,”Your friend is still here? I suppose it must be a big project. Anyways, I suppose it couldn’t hurt, ordering food. Nothing high in fat though, you’re getting chubby after all.”

Aziraphale bit his lip, he supposed he had gained a bit of weight since… everything,”Thank you.”

“I’ll pay whoever comes to the door.” Gabriel said with a shrug before taking off towards his office.

As the white-haired boy turned on his heel, he was given quite a fright when he found himself nose to nose with Anthony.

“My goodness, Anthony!” Aziraphale cried.

“Did he call you _chubby_?” for some odd reason, his redhaired friend had a tense, almost angry expression on his face.

“Er, yes.” the shorter teen said,”Why?”

“ _Why?_ ” Anthony asked, he seemed horrified,”He can’t just go around calling you chubby. Doesn’t that hurt? You don’t say that sort of things to people.”

Aziraphale suddenly felt very uncomfortable,”Gabriel and I are open and honest with one another. There’s no ill intent behind it.”

The redhead snorted in disbelief,”He seemed pretty condescending to me.”

“You also don’t know Gabriel.” the white-haired boy said defensively,”He’s not like that. It’s not mean, it’s… constructive criticism.”

“Good lord.” Anthony said, shaking his head,”Kids, teens, pre-teens, toddlers whatever, are all impressionable. You say the wrong thing and they get insecure. Besides, you are pretty much at a normal body weight, he has no right to be like that with you.”

“Anthony, maybe that’s what you believe and maybe that’s how you were raised.” Aziraphale said carefully,”But my family has a different set of beliefs. We have our own ways of thinking and none of what we say to each other is meant to be rude. It’s all to help improve, to get better. You can always be better.”

The redhead’s face was definitely starting to show rage. If it hadn’t been there before it most certainly was now,”That’s fucked up, angel. Always can get better, always can be better? That’s just messed up. That can cause serious psychological issues. Oh and also, you don’t get to assume how I was raised based off of my beliefs. And they aren’t just beliefs, there is science behind them. You are so clever! How can somebody as clever as you are be so stupid?”

The shorter sophomore open and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. He felt a sliver of doubt but pushed it down, hard,”Why don’t we order some food?”

“Changing the subject.” Anthony nodded aggressively,”Ok. Ok fine. Whatever floats your boat. What low-fat meal do you want to order?”

Aziraphale bit down hard on his tongue so to prevent it from lashing out. When he started tasting blood, he took a deep breath and tried to keep a steady head,”If you continue like this I will be forced to expel you from my home.”

The redhead stared at him in disbelief,”Are you serious?”

The white haired teen nodded firmly.

Anthony stared again before shaking his head and picking up his bag (which he’d moved to the front door about twenty minutes ago),”You can’t kick somebody out because they challenge what you believe in. That’s literally what free speech is for.”

Aziraphale bit his lip, perhaps he’d been a bit harsh. He didn’t want Anthony to leave,”Anthony I’m sorry.”

The taller sophomore nodded,”Ok.” before exiting the condo.

Aziraphale sighed and put his head in his hands. It seemed their personalities did not click well, nor did their beliefs. Anthony was being surprisingly insightful today, he was presenting more knowledge then what he normally displayed. He began to think again that the redhead was more intelligent than what he let on. Still though, perhaps Anathema and Newton had been right when they said he should avoid the redhead.

 

* * *

  


_September 22 - Monday_

It seemed Aziraphale had another apology to make. In all seriousness, he believed Anthony also owed him one. The white-haired teen might’ve overstepped a week ago but the redhead had also done the same on Saturday. They hardly knew one another, Anthony was hardly in a position to give him life advice, or to challenge his beliefs. Still though, the shorter teen had been curt, dismissive and had overreacted. They both had their apologies to make. Aziraphale planned to make his today during history, he even had a peace offering - a bag of doritos, the same type he’d seen Anthony eat a few days ago. He wondered if his classmate would do the same. The redhead seemed like a pretty stubborn and unapologetic fellow after all. He seemed set in his ways and a believer that he knew best. Honestly, Anthony had also been dismissive on Saturday.

Aziraphale had initially wanted to text his friend an apology but felt it would be more meaningful if he did it in person. There was something cold and impersonal in technology.

He moved to second period and sat next to Anthony. The other boy looked sulky and a bit sickly. His skin was paler than it had been last week. Everything about his posture suggested exhaustion. The first thing Aziraphale had planned to say to his friend was “Sorry” but seeing his fellow sophomore now, he instead found himself asking,”Are you alright?”

Anthony had his head low, his knuckles were white as they gripped and pulled tightly at his own hair. He didn’t seem to have heard the white haired boy. Tentatively, Aziraphale reached towards his friend and tried to separate his hands from his hair. The taller teen didn’t stop. The shorter one bit his lip before opening his mouth to speak again,”Anthony-”

“Don’t call me that.” the redhead cut him off, his voice sounded strained.

Aziraphale frowned,”Why not? Why are you changing-”

“Stop.” Anthony said, relaxing his grip on his hair, instead clasping them tightly together, he raised his head and the white-haired boy was taken aback at how horrible he looked. His hair wasn’t in it’s usual style, instead looking as though Anthony had just rolled out of bed. He was wearing his turtleneck again. The shades he was wearing Aziraphale recognized as the ones he had cracked a few days ago. He wondered where his good pair had gone. The redhead was still pale and his lip was split and swollen. There was a gash on the side of his head and a messily stitched wound on his hairline.

Aziraphale didn’t know how to respond to the situation, he reached his hand towards Anthony (not Anthony, he doesn’t want to be Anthony…) caught his hand halfway. The white-haired boy took his point.

“What do you want me to call you?” the shorter teen asked cautiously.

“I don’t know.” the redhead said, sounding angry but too tired to raise his voice,”Just not _that_.”

“Ok.” Aziraphale said quietly,”How about your last name?”

“Sure. I don’t care.” Anth- _Crowley_ said.

They didn’t say much to one another for the rest of class. The bell rang, and the white haired boy turned to face A- _Crowley_ ,”Crowley… about Saturday. I wasn’t being fair and I was being dismissive. I’m very sorry.”

The redhead just nodded,”Ok.”

He didn’t apologize.


	3. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley stays over.

_October 3 - Thursday_

 

Aziraphale frowned at his friend. Crowley was at school with bruises… again. It seemed to be a recurring theme. It was also beyond worrying. After his first try of asking what had happened, the white-haired teen dared not ask again about what Crowley got into in his spare time. He’d decided days ago that the most logical explanation was the crowd the redhead spent time with. While the taller of the two friends had a sense of mischief, it wasn’t anything as heinous as his “friends”. 

Crowley’s “friends” were the sorts who had criminal records for stealing things, assaulting people, all the worst people in the school. Aziraphale was uneasy about that. He hadn’t thought that his classmate actually did have ties to people and things like that - had thought they were rumors, until a few weeks ago. Even though he constantly insulted them, Crowley spent time with the likes of Hastur and Listur. The redhead’s mischievous nature was much tamer than the two’s though, while they tried to set the school’s bathroom on fire, Crowley put fake mold all over the cafeteria food. So while Aziraphale’s friend was a tad devious, it didn’t explain why he had relations with those sorts. 

Crowley surrounded himself with the worst types of people it seemed, Mr. Beelzebub (who Anathema had declared Satan just a few days ago) had even taken a sort of twisted liking for the troublemaker. The teacher actually egged his student on when he was doing something inappropriate. Crowley sucked up the attention. Still, he never passed the line. Despite what the rumors were saying, Aziraphale really didn’t think his taller classmate was involved in anything like drug deals. 

Their project was coming along, slowly, but Crowley was doing his share of work very well. It was much more thoroughly done than what the white-haired boy expected. His gangly comrade was much smarter than he let on. The two sophomore’s didn’t have an easy time coordinating their schedules though. Crowley had a habit of bailing last minute or not just disappearing for days at a time (another very worrying thing) and Aziraphale had a busy schedule. He had French lessons, book club, therapy sessions, church and after school honors programs to attend. Of course he wasn’t going to complain, all the extracurriculars would look good on his college application and according to Gabriel - make him a more well rounded person.

Standing next to his friend’s swollen face though, all that registered was a demanding force coming from his every being, it wanted to break the boundaries Aziraphale and Crowley had established. It wanted to ask what had happened. There was no making what marred Anthony’s face look like an accident. One could see where a hand had roughly grabbed the side of his face and - judging by the gash on the other side of the fifteen year old’s face - smashed it into a hard object with a lot of force. The blood mixed with his hair so it was hardly noticeable. Aziraphale noticed anyway. He knew others had too, teachers, other students, Gabriel even. Nobody asked though. For some reason nobody seemed to want to. 

So instead of asking, Aziraphale just bit his lip and asked if his hurting friend wanted aspirin. Crowley simply ignored him, as he always did.

 

* * *

 

 

_October 7 - Monday_

After history ended, Crowley was held back by Mrs. Young. Aziraphale had frowned at the teacher’s summons but parted with his friend, deciding to wait outside the classroom. He didn’t have to wait long, just past a minute and his red-haired classmate stormed out of the room, a scowl plastered across his face. Crowley ignored Aziraphale and started walking swiftly down the hall, the shorter teen had to jog to keep up with him. 

“What did Mrs. Young want?” Aziraphale inquired, worriedly keeping his eye on his friend.

“She wanted to know where I got the bruise from.” Crowley snarled.

The white-haired teen frowned, he hadn’t noticed any new bruises on Anthony, he tried to furtively take a look at the redheads face. He still couldn’t see anything. He also wasn’t as sneaky as he’d hoped as Crowley said, looking annoyed,”It’s not on my face, angel.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale said quietly, feeling uncomfortable. He tried to scan the rest of his friend, hoping to notice what the teacher had. After a few seconds of this, the taller teen stopped in his tracks, looking exasperated. Hurriedly, Aziraphale did the same, narrowly avoiding tripping over his own feet.

“You want to know what she saw?” Crowley asked, anger seeping into his tone,”Well then have a fucking look, angel!”

The redhead yanked down his left sleeve and the other boy let out a small gasp. Around his friend’s wrist was an ugly bruise, purple and black. One could make out the outline of where a large hand had grabbed and Aziraphale bit his lip. He wondered, not for the first time, where all of the injuries his friend came to school with originated,”Crowley…”

But his friend was already walking away, even faster than before. 

 

* * *

 

_October 15 - Tuesday_

It was almost ten at night when Aziraphale received the call. Crowley was calling him, something incredibly rare as his friend usually preferred to text. The white-haired boy had wondered who was calling him at all, his guess had been Newton or Anathema, he was surprised to find Crowley’s contact glaring at him instead. Frowning, he accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear,”Hello?”

“Hi, Angel.” came the redheads voice. Aziraphale frowned, the tone of his friend’s speech sounded strange, tense perhaps… strained. He wondered if that was simply because it was a call,”Er, I was wondering, could I maybe stay the night?”

His frown deepened,”It’s a school night, Crowley.”

“Right.” came the voice from the other end of the receiver. The white-haired teen definitely picked up on a tremble in Anthony’s tone,”I-I… I know. I just…”

Aziraphale bit his lip, he could hear the emotion in his friend’s voice, Crowley never wore his feelings on his sleeve and usually it was so hard to read him. Hearing the strain in his classmate’s voice made him throw reasonableness away,”You can come over, just don’t let Gabriel see or hear you. Text me when you’re here and I’ll open the door for you. Don’t knock or ring the doorbell.”

“Thank you.” Crowley said quietly, some relief inching into his tone, before hanging up.

The white-haired teenager sat on his bed with worry, not being able to bring himself to do anything but wait for Anthony to text him again. He speculated about what had caused the redhead to become so upset, perhaps Aziraphale should’ve gone to Crowley instead of vice-versa. Who knew what state his friend was in right now. That thought alone was enough to make him pace, he realized he was working himself up. There was nothing the white-haired boy could do until the taller teen arrived. The redhead had been fine at school today and Aziraphale had seen him drive away in his Bentley. So whatever had happened must be separate from school, unless he was meeting with a classmate. Perhaps Hastur or Listur? But what could either of them do to upset Crowley so? He wondered and worried for a good thirty minutes until a ‘ding’ came from his phone. Not even bothering to check it, the white-hired teen raced to the front door, ignoring Gabriel’s inquisitive look. 

He opened the door and was relieved by the sight of his friend. It was short-spent though as quickly after Aziraphale realized how haggard Crowley looked. His shades had long cracks in them that made it look as though the lenses would fall out at any moment, his face was pale and his hands shook at his sides. The redhead didn’t have a bag with him and his clothing was drenched, it seemed he’d walked out in the rain. For whatever reason, he hadn’t taken his Bentley. 

Coming to his senses, Aziraphale peeked over the corner to see if Gabriel was still engrossed in his work - it seemed he was. Without further precautions, the white-haired teen beckoned Crowley to follow him and walked as fast as he could to his room. He winced at the squishing that came from behind him, he hoped that his brother would remain none the wiser. 

Finally the two sophomores were safely in Aziraphale’s room. The shorter teen let out a relieved sigh before turning his attention to Anthony’s state. A puddle was already forming under his friend. The white-haired boy frowned,”You didn’t bring another pair of clothes did you?”

“No.”

Aziraphale bit his lip, Crowley definitely needed to get out of his wet clothes, he’d fall ill if he didn’t, he was probably already nearing sickness judging by his pallor. He thought over what he could do, eventually he resigned himself to the only option and began rifling through his dresser. 

“What are you doing?” his friend asked from behind him, curiosity in his tone.

“Trying to get you some warm clothes. You’ll get hyperthermia if you stay in those.” Aziraphale said.

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s what friends do, Crowley.” the white-haired boy said, pulling away from the dresser, a pair of pajamas in hand,”These’ll be small but they’re the best I have. I can dry your clothes tonight.”

Aziraphale placed the clothes in the redheads arms, his friend gave only a weak attempt to fight him this time,”I really don’t-”

“I’m not having you fall ill when it’s preventable.” the shorter teen said, folding his arms across his chest resolutely,”The bathroom is over there.”

Crowley still looked diffident, but one glance at Aziraphale’s hard stare and he made his way to the restroom. When the redhead shut the door, the other teen began setting up a bed for him and turned on the heater, to warm Anthony up. He had just finished when the taller teen stepped out of the restroom looking comical in Aziraphale’s pajamas. The bruise from last week was still around his wrist but was yellowing. However other marks were on his arms, a variety of fresh or fading bruises as well as a few scars. Crowley was doing his best to hide them but looked uncomfortable. The white-haired teenager had been shocked still, Anthony though, had noticed the makeshift bed and made for it. Wordlessly, the redhead laid down and Aziraphale came back to himself. He left Crowley to fall asleep and gathered his friend’s clothing, moving towards the laundry room. He felt a strong emotion come over him as he did, incredible sadness. Then anger. Then a mixture of both. What had happened… was happening to his friend? He felt a protectiveness fall over him. He’d been ignoring this. He shouldn’t have been ignoring it. Whatever ‘it’ might be was hurting his closest friend and leaving him vulnerable in a way that was so unlike Crowley. What was wrong with him? Anthony had been showing up with bruises for two months and he’d just brushed it off! 

One thing was for certain, the next chance he got, Aziraphale would be talking with the redhead. No matter how hesitant Crowley was to sharing, the white-haired teen would pry it out of him. He believed in the right to keep secrets, but only if said secrets didn’t hurt others or oneself. Whatever the taller teen was keeping from the shorter was definitely hurting himself. 

Aziraphale loaded the redhead’s laundry into the dryer without more contemplation. After starting the machine he sighed and rubbed his temples. All of the worrying was giving him a headache. When the white-haired boy got back in his room, Anthony was already sleeping, his shades off of his eyes and on Aziraphale’s bed stand. Curiously, the shorter teen examined his friend’s eyelids, looking, perhaps for an answer behind the constant wearing of sunglasses. He came up short. 

Sighing yet again, Aziraphale climbed into his bed and allowed himself to drift off.

 

* * *

 

 

_October 16 - Wednesday_

Aziraphale woke when the sun had yet to rise. He frowned, he didn’t have insomnia so wondered what had awoken him. It didn’t take long to discover the cause. There was a muffled sound coming from the side of his bed. Crowley was talking in his sleep, that explained it - the white-haired teenager was a light sleeper after all. The shorter boy wasn’t quite sure what to do, it was going to be hard to fall back asleep with Anthony’s murmuring, but he didn’t want to wake the redhead up. Crowley definitely looked like he needed a good night’s sleep. 

Sighing, Aziraphale grabbed a flashlight and book from his night stand and started flipping through the novel, Gabriel had suggested it. Really the text wasn’t all that interesting (it detailed accounting and all of its glory, from the forms one had to fill out to workplaces to be expected. It was mind numbingly dull.) but it was something to occupy his mind. However, something else occupied it shortly after the beginings of reading; Crowley’s talking. More specifically, the change in the talking. The incomprehensible murmurs had changed to louder and clearer speech. Most startling was the fear in Anthony’s tone. It seemed to be the start of a nightmare. Quickly, Aziraphale hopped down beside the redhead and shook his shoulder. He of all people knew how horrible night terrors could be. The white-haired teen had barely touched the taller boy when the latter’s eyes flew open. Aziraphale was beyond startled by what he saw, Crowley’s irises were an unexpected and astonishing yellow color. Before he could ponder more on the topic though, the shorter teen was shocked from his thoughts when a wild fist flew at him, slamming into his eye. He let out a startled cry and fell backwards, narrowly avoiding hitting his head. Aziraphale moaned and caressed the bruising area.

“Shit!” he heard vaguely. Crowley came into his line of sight, a regretful look on his face, his yellow eyes still uncovered,”I’m so sorry, angel! I didn’t mean… are you alright?”

The white-haired teen nodded, too startled to do much else. His friend looked like he was panicking,”I’ll get you some ice. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to hit you. You just took me by surprise.” and then the redhead was up, sprinting off. 

Aziraphale came back to himself shortly after and tentatively touched the hurt area. He retracted his hand almost immediately, Crowley had hit him hard. He wondered, worriedly, what made punching his friend’s automatic response to being woken up? His ponderings were once again cut off though as a familiar redhead had bolted back into the room, looking frazzled and worried, ice pack in hand,”Here” he said, handing the pack over. 

The white-haired teen placed the ice on his wound, wincing at it, Crowley looked at him apologetically,”I’m sorry. I just… don’t do well with being woken abruptly…”

“It’s alright.” Aziraphale said, because really, it was. 

Crowley still didn’t have his shades on,”Are your eyes why you wear sunglasses?”

The redhead froze, it seemed he’d only now realized he wasn’t wearing his signature shades. He looked around, scanning probably for the glasses.

“They’re on the nightstand.” Aziraphale said helpfully. 

The taller sophomore grabbed the sunglasses immediately. As he put them on he cleared his throat and said, in discomfort,”Yes.”

“Why? Are they sensitive?” the white-haired boy asked, curiosity in his tone. He was trying to move the topic away from Crowley’s punching as the teen seemed guilty about it. Looking at Anthony’s face after asking the question though, and Aziraphale wondered if the new subject was much better.

“No.” the redhead said, barely audible,”Just don’t like people seeing them.”

“Oh.” the shorter teen uttered, an uncomfortable silence settling between the pair. 

  


“I’m going back to sleep.” Crowley finally said.

“Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale said, biting his lip,”Good night then.”

“Goodnight.” the redhead kept his shades on this time.


End file.
